Telling the Truth
The crew of the science vessel U.S.S. Kristeva, returning to Earth after a six months' Academy cadet training cruise, had been invited to make a stop along the way and attend the retirement party of Fleet Admiral Alexie Irigaray. And even as Cadet Julian Bashir good-naturedly introduced himself to all the women he could find as he made his way through the admiral's spacious home, every room offered such a tantalizing vista of the Irigaray estate Julian found himself hard-pressed to keep his mind on present business. He had to admit that it was good to be back planetside.
Finally Julian opened an old-fashioned glass door to the veranda and found a small group of people already enjoying the planet's cool night. He slipped into a vacant seat and eavesdropped for a while, trying to pick up the thread of conversation.
Admiral Irigaray's husband, Dennis, came out with holocamera in hand. "'stills, everybody, 'stills!" he announced cheerfully, shuffling people around to create the best effect. Amused, Julian found himself being told to move more to the left, a little forward, more left, just a little bit to the right, and finally perched on the lap of a woman he didn't know. As Dennis fussed with an ornamental lamp, Julian and the woman he encumbered introduced themselves.
"Do you come here often, Laris?" he asked her.
"Only when I'm in the neighborhood. The admiral always throws a good party," she told him with a teasing smile. Julian was aware that he looked particularly handsome that evening in his civilian suit and he fixed Laris with his direct gaze, a smile sparkling behind his brown eyes. She placed her hands on his hips, holding him lightly. "You're pretty charming, aren't you?" she asked conversationally.
"Hmm?" It was an unexpected question.
She smiled brightly. "I dislike charming men."
Julian wondered fleetingly why fate had placed him in her lap instead of the petite blonde's on the other side of the veranda, considered backing off, then decided on full steam ahead. He gave her his best boyish grin. "Why?"
"Because they're unfair."
Dennis snapped his holostills, and then Julian turned back to face Laris, crossing his legs and placing an arm around her shoulders as if he were settling down. She raised both her eyebrows. Her hands were still on his hips, and his turning drew one of her arms around his waist. She didn't move it. "Comfy, Julian?"
"Absolutely." He smiled down at her. "I'd say that last statement deserves amplification."
She considered. "Charming men...not only look you straight in the eye, they look inside you, as if what they see, they'd like to know more about. They give you all their attention. They banter words easily, but they're direct, too. They aren't afraid of touching someone..." She trailed off, their gazes locked, and then her grin came back. "And although I know it's just a way of behaving and I'd rather fight it, I can't help responding."
"And you don't have a chance in hell against them."
"And that's why I dislike them." She drew an exaggerated breath. "So—what do you do with a man who's sitting in your lap?" she wondered aloud.
"You could get to know him better."
"Or you could ask him to get up because your legs are falling asleep." She laughed as he jumped up and helped her to stand.
"I'm terribly sorry, I didn't mean—"
"Come walk with me?"
"Of course."
They walked carefully down the steps of the veranda and started across the lawn, Julian's arm around Laris to steady her. As they slowly left the laughter and conversation of the party behind, replacing them with the sound of the wind in the trees and on the water, Laris finally said in a soft, heartfelt voice, as if she couldn't help herself, "What a gorgeous night!"
Responding to her genuine emotion, Julian agreed, "It's only when I'm planetside and the stars are standing still, and the moonlight makes shadows you can't guess at, and—I feel grass under my feet, and breezes...the delicate scents they bring... Then, I realize how beautiful the night can be, and how much I've missed it."
She looked at him appraisingly, started to say something, then visibly changed her mind. "I was going to ask you a stupid question," she explained. "But I'll tell you my first thought instead. I like your sensibility."
He bowed his head, but was smiling nevertheless. "Thank you."
"And I have the answer to my stupid question anyway. We're at an admiral's party, of course you're Starfleet. But if you don't spend much time planetside, that means you must serve—" She stopped herself. "I don't want to know."
"What don't you want to know?"
"Where you serve. What your job is. Let's not talk shop. I don't want to get to know that person."
"So if I gave you my name, rank and serial number you'd march back to the house and not talk to me?"
"What do rank and serial number have to do with—that smile of yours?" His smile faded briefly as he became conscious of it, then he smiled deliberately, testing it. Being a doctor was so ingrained in the idea of who he was that it wasn't just a job for him—but he could see her point. The smile was pure Julian Bashir.
"Okay," he said affably. "Let's lie to each other."
"What?" she asked, startled.
"You don't want to talk shop, and you don't want to get to know the 'career' me—so let's dispense with small talk altogether. Lie to me." Then, conversationally, "Tell me, Laris, what do you do for a living?"
She stammered, blurting out, "I—I'm...I'm a pirate. What about you?"
He thought briefly. "A schoolteacher. What do you smuggle? Or are you more of a rape and pillage pirate?"
"Smuggle and pillage," she corrected quickly. "I smuggle...that which, if divulged to you, would endanger your life. Your turn, what—"
"No, no—what's the name of your ship? The crew complement?"
"Mmm..." She thought back to holotapes she had seen as a child and grinned, getting into the role. "I have a loyal crew of twenty-five, and we fly the seven heavens in a ship called No Hostages. Danger is our diet, and fame and glory our reward. We owe allegiance to none but ourselves." She cocked an eye at Julian. "What do you teach, Teach?"
"Everything from general deportment to theoretical mathematics in a small school in a small town on a small planet in a small arm of the galaxy."
"I bet you long for excitement, danger, adventure. Come join me! You can swear your loyalty to me in blood right here."
"I'd stain your dress. No, you see, by day I'm a schoolteacher, by night the most famous poet this side of Antares."
"Are you?"
"I've won countless awards for my genius. My verse touches you so profoundly that as soon as you read it, you know I've seen your heart, and you never forget it."
"Well, I'm a singer," she countered.
"A pirate singer?"
"Obviously I use a pseudonym," she retorted, then, back in character, declared, "I can move you to tears, or make you soar higher than you ever dreamed, all with my voice and the songs I sing."
"Isn't it a bit hard to sustain a muse between raids?"
"The raids are essential to my creative process."
They had reached the lake, and sat down on a stone bench near the edge of it. Waterfowl were already dozing on the grass. Julian looked at the water and said softly, "Sing me a song, Pirate Laris."
"Can't. Tone deaf." He glanced at her quickly, then they broke into laughter. "See? I really was lying to you."
"Or was it a pipe dream?"
"I don't want to be a famous singer. I just wish sometimes that I could carry a tune. And you?"
"I sometimes wish very, very hard that I could write poetry."
A small family of waterfowl glided across the water. Julian waved to them and they swam for the shore hard, their tails working vigorously.
"Oh, they're adorable," Laris crooned. "But why did you do that? We don't have anything to feed them."
Julian dug around in his jacket pockets and produced two small paper bags. He handed one to Laris. "Yes, we do." He crushed a cracker and tossed the crumbs to the baby birds.
"You were planning to come down to the lake with someone all along," she stated, tearing a large crust of bread into smaller pieces and sprinkling them on the water.
"Can't a man be a two-fisted fowl feeder without being suspect?"
She fixed him with a sidelong glance, then, turning back to the lake, asked, "Fortuitous it was me, or not?"
"Fortuitous." He hoped that he had said it quickly enough, decisively enough, to let her know that fate and Dennis Irigaray had put him in the right lap; that, despite all the other women in attendance at the party, he was intrigued by the one he was with and glad to be getting to know her.
They watched a lone waterfowl glide gracefully across the lake. Then Laris looked at him. "I feel the same way." She smiled at him and got up, walking along the edge of the lake and trailing food in the water as she went.
He followed beside her. "Does that mean I get to sit in your lap again?"
"No, it doesn't. Hey, no fighting!" she admonished the baby waterfowl, who were pecking each other and peeping at her for more to eat. "There's enough for everyone. Come on, Julian, don't be stingy."
"Weren't you just giving me a hard time for bringing two bags?"
"Well, obviously schoolteachers know more...about these things than pirates." She'd meant to make a joke, but instead grew thoughtful, remembering their lies. So did he. They walked away from the lake in silence.
Finally he offered, "I could sing you a song, Laris."
"Please," she said gently. He sang a song whose words were unfamiliar to her, but her heart went with his melody. To say "thank you" seemed inadequate, so after they had walked a little farther in silence, she took his hand and told him a poem, not reciting it but sharing it with him.
They stopped at another bench, but didn't sit down. Julian put the empty bags back in his pockets, and they faced each other awkwardly. His little game of lies had turned into more truth than either were prepared for.
She broke the silence first, declaring, "Boy, do I feel vulnerable."
He released a breath he hadn't realized he'd been holding, then laughed and threw his arms around her. She hugged him back, and they held each other tight.
Julian touched her hair, and Laris pulled back just enough to look at him. He told her softly, "You know, you're incredibly charming for someone who's not partial to charm."
Their faces were so close he could see now that pale freckles dotted her cheeks, that her light-colored eyes were blue as steel, that her straight brown hair caught moonlight and reflected it back dark red. He traced a line from her temple down the side of her face and back again, cupped her face in his hand. She echoed his movements, touching him lightly. She tilted her head as if to kiss him.
"I dare you." Her eyes widened, but she was smiling as he continued, "Are you going to give in to the charming man, or not? He's got that direct gaze, that way with words. He's irresistible."
Her eyes shone with good humor as she regarded him. Finally, making up her mind, she kissed him on the cheek. "Not to the pirate."
"Or the charming woman." He kissed her in return, and they walked hand in hand back to the house, laughing softly and talking.
Getting his bearings after returning to Earth, Julian decided to call on the person he was team-teaching a medical anthropology course with, a Cadet Winterowd. Two technicians were just leaving the anthro lab and a woman in blue coveralls was unpacking a metal box. "Cadet Winterowd?"
She turned around, and he saw a blush rise underneath her freckles, a silly "of course" grin twisting her mouth both up and down. He walked towards her, wondering if his face was looking much the same. It probably was.
"Cadet—Bashir." He didn't miss the brief pause, the slight emphasis on his rank, as he didn't miss the unspoken "Julian" in her amused blue eyes.
"Cadet—Winterowd." And he matched the look in her eyes with his unspoken "Laris." "I'm pleased to make your acquaintance. Properly."
"So am I." She gestured around at non-existent chairs. "Please, have a seat, Cadet."
They hoisted themselves up on the lab benches and Laris said, "I seem to remember asking you the other night about something being fortuitous."
"Oh, the answer is still the same," he assured her and, mirroring her teasing smile of their first meeting, explained, "I'm team-teaching with the one woman who won't let me trade on my personal charm. I'd say that was a long time coming."
Laris's grin was a warning all the same. "If that's true, Cadet—"
"—we're either in for a very awkward year working together, or we're going to become the best of friends," Julian finished amiably.
"Are those my only choices?"
"I believe so."
She put out her hand. "Then let's call it 'pax.' Teach."
He shook her hand firmly. "Pax it is. Pirate Laris."
They held their straight faces a few moments longer, then started to laugh.
FIN